


Seaside Sapphics

by SaintImperator



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, and write things at 1 am, because i have no control, or doing literally any other tasks, or looking for jobs, when i should be doing homework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 09:13:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11643465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintImperator/pseuds/SaintImperator
Summary: Frigga and Fwahe take a vacation to the beach.....in the middle of winter.





	Seaside Sapphics

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tetsuna-chan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Tetsuna-chan).



“Let’s just get away for the weekend.” 

The phrase was like the wish-granting spirit in copper lamps of Arabian origin, it suddenly made all my wishes come true. I hadn’t known such getaways were possible, nor that I should ever be taken on one- yet there the words hovered in open air, waiting for me to agree with them. 

She said it so casually I almost thought she was joking. Frigga had been relaxed on her pillows painting her nails a deep navy blue, and hadn’t even looked up from her work to propose such an adventure. 

“Get away?” I asked, “Get away where?” 

“The seaside!” She exclaimed. 

“Frigga…it’s the middle of winter.” I reminded. 

She stuck out her lip, pouting in the most adorable way. I’d never known anyone to have such a powerful pout before. I fell to apologies and was quickly forgiven for poking holes in her plan. She had never seen the sea during winter and was full of romantic notions of water frozen in perfect crystal waves. She hoped she might see the tiny fish caught inside icy prisons, marveling at them as though the water were a giant glasswork. 

I had experienced with the winter ocean before. It was not crystal fish and snowy beaches. The chilling sea was whipped up by unfettered winds and blew frigid chunks of sandy debris directly into one’s face. There was no fanciful sugar-iced wonderland waiting upon far shores, but the power of the pout compelled me. I didn’t say anything to the contrary. 

“I’ll have to pack.” I said. 

Frigga grinned, quickly screwing on the top of the nail polish and blowing on her fingers to begin the drying process. “I’ve already packed for you.” 

Of course she had. She thought of everything. 

“Well when do we leave then?” I asked. 

“As soon as my nails are dry.” She said, pecking me on the cheek to shake me out of stunned stupor. Her powers of preparedness and prediction never failed to astound me. She always knew just how things would come to pass, possessing complete control over a situation. With me it was just being thrown in the lake to constantly tread the waters of the things I experienced, and pray that I didn’t drown. So far she had kept me afloat. 

She’d decided we’d take horses. The stallions and mares that were housed in Frigga’s barn didn’t get along with me very well. I smelled like predator and they knew themselves to be prey. They trusted her without hesitation, welcoming her as one of their own. Her favorite mare, Swift neighed out a greeting and proceeded to nip at Frigga’s curls. 

“Swift you’re messing up my braids!” Frigga scolded. 

The smile on her face and the handful of sugar cubes that disappeared into the mare’s mouth betrayed her delight. She kissed the horse on the nose, then did the same to me lest I get jealous. 

“You can ride her if you want.” Frigga offered. She knew that her spirited mare was the only one who didn’t immediately shy from me. 

To deprive horse of rider was a crime I’d never dream of committing. Frigga’s hair was practically the same shade as Swift’s mane, and I took private porta its, storing them in my mind for later. She looked every bit a queen up on the horse’s back. 

“It’s alright.” I said. “I can try and make nice with Rodger again.” 

Rodger was the largest and stupidest of the herd. He was used to following after a lead horse which made it easy for me to fall in behind Frigga. I was fortunate to look upon her from any angle, but it was especially lovely to see the bend of her back as she rode. She might turn and look over her shoulder, and all would be so beautifully out of line one could not help wanting to lay hands on hips and twist everything back into proper origin. 

Since Rodger was the larger horse, we got stuck with the luggage. Swift let out a high-pitched whinny that I could swear was some kind of horse-laughter. She pranced about with ease while Rodger plodded along with careful steps. We were never going to reach the ocean at his pace. 

The sun was just beginning to center itself in the sky for its midday announcements as we departed the rowhouses and walls that comprised the city of Yharnam. The people we passed stopped to wave, all of them familiar with their Patron Huntress. She smiled and inclined her head towards each of them in turn, while I shrunk back in my hood and hoped not to scare anyone. Despite being Patron’s Ranger, the denizens of Yharnam still hadn’t taken to having a Vileblood roam their city- and I didn’t entirely blame them. It did make it difficult to go out during the day. 

Things got easier when we passed through the gates and went riding out amongst the farms. Fortunately the road to the ocean did not detour through the Forbidden Woods so I needn’t fear any snakes or spooky things that were curled up in dark corners. Frigga let Swift have her own head, and the moment she was freed of city streets she took off at a gallop that poor Rodger just couldn’t match. Together the pair leapt frozen rivers and farm fences, streaking across the farmland in a blur of silver. 

Frigga would circle back and Swift would parade circles around me tossing her head and curling her neck, relishing the chance to show off for even the smallest of audiences. 

“You’re not horribly bored are you, Love?” Frigga asked, leaning over to scratch Rodger behind the ear. 

I shook my head. I could never be bored watching her. She embellished even the most mundane tasks with effortless elegance. It was lovely to watch her wash her hands, or pen a letter. There was something about the way she moved that was just inherently beautiful, like falling flower petals. She never had to try. 

It was incredible when she did. 

With the sweetest of pleas she talked me down from Rodger’s saddle and had me sit behind her so that we could ride together. Superior horsemanship allowed her to hold the reigns of both horses without any problem. I locked my arms around her waist, gently rising and falling in time with the horses hooves. 

We reached the ocean at sunset. 

I so wished it had been Frigga’s vision, that somehow her trememdous power of will could twist even the nature of the most stubborn season. Alas her abilities had to send somewhere, and she could not crystalize the sea nor blanket the sand with snow. It was ever as I thought it would be, wind-tossed and wild. Swift was not all deterred. The moment she caught sight of the ocean she raced for it, and we were pulled into the frigid waters along with her. 

Not even skillful Frigga could deter the mare when she was this excited. Icy sea spray lapped at out legs. Frigga screamed. 

“Swift!” 

The mare let out another strange horse-laugh and splashed water up at us once more before neatly trotting out of the shallows. She seemed all too terribly pleased with herself. 

Frigga started to shiver, and I thought it best to give her my cloak. I didn’t really feel the cold after all. Frigga took the cleric beast hide and tucked it around her shoulders, breathing into her cupped hands to keep warm. We dismounted and I began to unload our supplies from Rodger. 

There were a few summer cabins scattered along the shore. Frigga had somehow gained acssess to one of them. She hurried to unlock the door and light the stove while I took the horses into their vacation barn. I made sure to give them plenty of stable blankets, and was pleased that Rodger had grown accustomed to the scent of me. 

“Hard to be the only boy here?” I asked him. 

He snorted. 

“I feel ya.” I said, stroking his nose, “Try being the only Vileblood in a room full of Executioners, then get back to me.” 

I was worried Frigga would still be freezing when I got back to our beachside residence. By the time I was finished with the horses however, she had the place plenty warm. Smoke rose from the chimney, and a kettle of tea burbled away on the cast iron stovetop. She was unpacking our rations from a wicker hamper, and storing them in the cupboard. 

Despite the warmth she still had my cloak draped across her shoulders. It was unbearably cute. She did not have my height, nor my broad shoulders, and the coat had been large even for me. She was constantly having to pull it up or push it down as the folds of fur either eclipsed her hands or slid from her shoulders. 

“I can help.” I said. 

She smiled and searched through the hamper for a particular jar. The liquid inside was bright red, glittering like a ruby. 

“You didn’t!” I exclaimed “I thought I’d eaten the last of them. 

“Will you eat this and tell me if it’s gone bad yet?” She asked at the same time as I’d spoken. 

She was trying to be cute about it, acting as though it was all clever conscience. I couldn’t begin to fathom how long she must’ve been plotting this particular moment, for I was sure I had combed all of Yharnam from top to bottom for strawberry preserves. I’d soaked pancakes with them, mixed their juices into blood, and scooped them straight from the jar, spilling sticky sweet syrup all over Frigga’s finest blankets while we shared them in bed. I had eaten all of them, every last jar- yet as if by magic here was one I’d somehow overlooked. 

“How did you…” 

“Won’t you check for me?” She asked again, extending the jar even further towards me. 

I nodded, awestruck and unscrewed the lid. I fished a strawberry, soft and spongy out with my fingers, sitting down at the kitchen table while Frigga continued to unpack. 

I knew a thing or two about temporary homes. I was used to breaking a quick camp or finding an old place to lie down in when exhaustion won out over willpower. This cabin was unlike any of them. The furniture was charming, there were little waterfowl carved into the legs of the table. A cozy couch waited by the fire, covered in pillows and draped with a woven blanket the color of seaweed. 

Someone cared about this place, cared enough to get matching plates and cups. There was an expensive looking piano in the far corner, covered by a white cloth. Books, well thumbed romance novels mostly lined the shelves. Someone had spent a lot of time here, and looked upon it fondly. 

I tried not to spill strawberry preserves on anything. 

Frigga relaxed on the couch once all of the food was safely stowed away. There would be vials of blood for me mixed in somewhere, I had no doubt. I sucked a final drop of syrup off my finger before screwing the lid back onto the jar and putting it in the cabinet with all of the other dry goods. 

She was still wrapped up in my cloak, stretched out to take over the whole couch. I laid directly on top of her, placing my head between her breasts and pursing my lips for a kiss. She obliged me, but not before tickling my ribs and protesting discomfort. 

It was my favorite place to lay on her, for here I could hear the pounding of her heart with ease. I sometimes doubted she was truly real, and that Frigga Hemlock was a cruel joke the world had decided to play on me. I thought that sometimes I would wake up and like smoke she would’ve disappeared. Lying here I knew that wasn’t possible. It was best when she kissed me or held my hands, but even just basic contact thrilled me. 

“Babe, your crushing me again.” She muttered. 

“And you stole my cloak.” I muttered, feigning drowsiness so she might let me lie there a few moments more. “I’m just keeping you warm.” 

“Your cold as ice.” She whined, “And heavy.” 

I felt her hands pushing me away, but I went limp. Just a few seconds more. Just one more moment with me pressed to her. 

When I could tarry no longer I let her push me away, and to spite me she got up and said she was changing into more comfortable sleeping clothes. She was away to another room, Kos willing one with a bed, to change. The cloak was damp with saltwater. I put it closer to the fire so the heat would dry it, in case she wanted to go outside. Her winter coat was elegeant, deep blue velvet with a white mink collar and cuffs- but nowhere near as warm as mine. 

She returned in a short whiff of robins’ egg chiffon with light blue lace. I could see straight through it, her freckles sparkling beneath the thin veil of fabric. There was a lump growing in my throat as she turned around. I was faintly aware of her asking for my opinion on the garment, but as my face flushed I suddenly lost the ability to speak. 

She batted her eyelashes several times and folded her hands together in front of her, waiting for a verdict still. I just couldn’t figure out how to make words spill from this stupid mouth. My eyes had overtaken everything, running laps up and down the curve of her legs, across her chest, up to her fluttering lashes and back again. It was all the little details that stuck out to me. She had taken out her earrings, and there were teeny tiny holes in her ears. It was winter so she wasn’t shaving, shimmering more silver then ever. The nail polish color she’d chosen stood out boldly against the delicate fabrics. 

“Well?” she asked after several insistent coughs. 

“G-good.” I stammered, “Very good. So good. All of the good.” 

She giggled and had mercy on me, extending her perfect fingers until my crude stubs closed around them. With a light tug she pulled me to the bedroom, which faced the sea. I could hear the crackling fire and the crash of the waves. They were the sound of all of natures raging, but in this room they were made peaceful. 

“Go ahead and undress.” She said, “I’ll grab your sleeping clothes.” 

I tried to keep my face from getting any redder. I didn’t deny her, of course. When in angel in blue veils asks you to take off your clothes they have a way of falling to the floor. Once everything had been kicked aside I watched as Frigga clapped a hand to her face in mock surprise. 

“Oh no.” she said, flatline as anything, “I must have forgotten to pack you an outfit.” 

She flopped onto the bed, and put on such a show of sadness a younger, newer me would’ve been distressed- but I knew this Frigga. 

“Oh no, indeed.” I said, “If only there were some way those careless fingers could make up for their mistakes.” 

“Shhh!” she hushed, pressing a finger to my lips. I pulled it past them with my tongue. She let me have two more and once they were slick with saliva she began to tease me with them. 

My head made a crater in the pillow and I carved divets into the headboard with my fingernails. She sat astide me, slowly pressing her fingers inside of me, spreading them apart and then withdrawing them again. I tried to entice her to go faster. Thrusting my hips to hers did nothing to help. She’d simply withdraw and press her lips to my thighs trailing lines between my legs while she crossed from one side to the other. Her hands kept me spread wide enough for her to work. 

“Please.” I panted. 

“Not yet,” Frigga said, “Be patient.” 

She kissed my neck, nipping along my collarbone and taking the time to suck at my skin and form little bruises while I filled the cabin with moans. 

She let her tongue trail over my breasts, taking bites of each nipple in turn until they were bright red and I was squealing. She giggled. 

“For all the biting you do…” She muttered. 

“S-shut up.” I panted, thrusting against her once more. I could feel her hips on my hips as her teeth clamped down on me once more. 

“I’m not the one waking the whole beach.” She teased. 

She spoke so close to my skin, I could feel every word in the hot puffs of breath. 

“Please.” I begged. 

She nipped me again before obliging, going a little faster this time. My toes curled, every inch of me reacting to her touches. There were times when her fingers went away, only to reappear and trail down my side making me shiver, or massage my quivering thighs. 

All of my words were passed silently from one mouth to another. Our lips were locked, tongues intertwined. She tasted sweeter then syrup. 

When the whole bed was rattling she began to go yet faster, curling her fingertips into all the little sensitive spaces that made me cry out her name. I flung my arms around her shoulders while she circled over and over the place that would push me over the edge. I held her to me while she brought me over the edge. I broke like waves against her curling my head to her shoulder while my body shook. She stroked my back, running her fingers over my scars and speaking sweet words to me. 

I was drenched in sweat. She helped me to lay back, letting my head fall on her chest once more. Her heartbeat mixed with the ocean sounds, filling my ears with calm breathing and soft kisses. Over and over until our lips were dried out, we kissed. She fell asleep with her lips locked to mine. I could feel her eyelashes tickling my cheeks as she succumbed to exhaustion. I brushed a curl behind her ear, kissing her cheek and smiling. Frigga was right, I should take weekend getaways more often.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a possible part two envisioned so if you liked this one you should let me know if you'd like to see it continued!
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
